Puffy things I don't wanna see!

Last night, for the first time in a very long time, I changed for the gym in the Ladies Locker room. Typically I have no problem walking around in my bra and underwear (you will NEVER hear me use the word panties…I despise it!), even when I’m not feeling my hottest. But, who in the world told these chicks that walking around with all of their lady parts exposed was ok!? Puff.
I remember sitting in the YMCA ladies locker room with my mom when I was 8 or 9 and it was just a sea of floppy boobs. I remember thinking, “Whoa this is weird!” and feeling reallllly uncomfortable coming face to face…errr nose to boobs with ladies who looked like my principal. This is exactly how my experience was last night. Boobs…lots and lots of sagging, sweaty boobs greeted me the instant I stepped foot in to the Nakey Zone…aka…ladies locker room. I mean, am I not supposed to stare!? I feel like I’ve stepped back into my eight year old self and instantly feel awkward and want to be invisible. There’s only one half of a bench available and the other half of the bench is occupied by a very large pair of cream colored Hanes her ways. This only means one thing…there’s someone…very close by…whose bum belongs in those things! And before I can make my move to a bathroom stall or another bench, I see her. She is old. She is white. Irredescently white, with bright purple varicose veins begging to get out of her pasty legs. I try not to look, but she’s right next to me! I put my ipod on, but then that makes it almost pornish…providing a soundtrack to the nakedness…eww! Her boobs are large and there is no distinction in color from areola to boob….none! Weird! And then, of course, the 70’s bush. PUT THE UNDIES ON LADY! NO ONE wants to see this. I look around to see if anyone else is as uncomfortable as me, and other women are just carrying on half dressed conversations about their kids and their cats. Puff.
Eventually, Hanes her way puts on her undies and I breathe a huge sigh of relief. I go into auto pilot and change as fast as humanly possible and pretty much run out of the locker room. My entire spin class, I’m plagued with the images I’ve just witnessed in the “comfort” of the Ladies Locker Room and I decided that I will ALWAYS…ALWAYS change before I get to the gym. De-puff.

Smooch.

The moment is here. You're about to have your first smooch with the gorgeous piece of man that has just taken you out for the second time...or maybe first.You've imagined what it's like to kiss him. You watched the way a drop of water caught his lip after he took a sip of water, and the way he licked it off. That could be you!You could be the drip! You've imagined standing on your tippy toes and him leaning down to kiss you. He'll touch your chin with his finger ever so slightly and it will be heaven. You've inhaled 4 pieces of gum, 1 tic tac and used a brush-up in the bathroom all in preparation for this moment. You close your eyes, minty fresh breath ready to go, and pucker up...and then it happens...TONGUE! Lots and lots of sloppy boy tongue grossness! PUFF!
Where did some boys learn to kiss? Last time I checked, we were born with tonsels for a reason and I'm pretty sure the male tongue is not supposed to violate and/or try to remove them during a sensual smooch. They touch your face like they're going to give you a tom cuise "jerry maguire" kinda kiss, and instead he ends up vaccum sucking your face and it ends up being more like the exorcist! A perfectly good guy...ruined...kaput...all because the poor fella doesn't know how to work his mouth and all of its innards! Puff.
And now let me introduce you to the no tongue "This is my sweet side" kisser. Bore. These fellas do lots...and lots of short overly lippy kisses. There's not even an instant where we, as ladies who loovvve romance and passion, even get remotely turned on...not even a smidge! There's no time to even get the turned on twinge! It's like little lip cotton balls being dabbed on your face every 3 seconds...again...BORE!They kiss your eyelids, the top of your ears, and of course the tip of your nose with the danityness of a freaking butterfly...Not hot...Not hot at all. Puff.
The kiss can make or break the potential for another date. No matter how smart, good looking, charming or irresistable the boy may be...it's all about the kiss.De-puff.

A single puff.

In the past two years I have had many moments of clarity, some so profound that I can’t help but give myself a figurative slap in the face. I’m a Cancer…so technically I can’t “help” the way I am sometimes. I mean, my astrology book tells me that Cancers are sensitive, emotional, have stomach issues (hellllllo IBS! That’s right…I said it!) AND have big boobs (hello double effing D!). So if that’s accurate, can I blame my astrological sign on being an overanalyzing, often irrational maniac!? Please say yes. Puff.
Why, please somebody tell me WHHHHHY, I can’t seem to grasp the concept of letting things go. And it’s not just me! In my circle of friends it’s amazing how many times we will bring up the crummy things that people have said or done, months or sometimes even YEARS ago and no matter what fantastic things they’ve done since said crummy event, we NEVER….EVER forget! Puff.
“Remember when he told me that he didn’t like my favorite pair of pants because they made me look like I had swamp ass!?” We’ve allll had a moment like this! You think you’re looking F-I-N-E and then BAM, he doesn’t like it! However, nine out the ten times you dress up to go out you practically can’t leave the house without him trying to molest you! But still, you will not forget the one time he didn’t like your damn pants. Puff.
The older I get the more I tend to overanalyze things and I think I’ve figured out why. I’m almost 30. I thought I would have my life right where it needed to be by 30. Not so much! So, when things don’t go according to “plan,” it’s like you’re running out of time to make…shit…happen. Be married, have a baby, have core group of friends, great job and nice house. Whoa. Talk about pressure! Who the hell said we had to have life and alllll of its perfections down to a science by the time we are 30!? Puff.
Is it easier to be single because we just don’t want to deal with the let down of ANOTHER douchelord messing with our life plan!? Here’s how it goes down…You and Prince kind- of –charming have been dating for 6 months. 6 months…that’s half a year. Half a year closer to you being another year older. Half a year closer to you maybe or maybe not having said perfect life. No effing pressure! Sheesh! So, if it doesn’t work out have you wasted 6 months on someone, when you should have been with someone else? ORRR, do you take it for what it was worth and be thankful for the fun you had and the lessons you learned?! Hmm…I go with choice A! I mean, tick tock people! I got over that whole “be thankful for what you had and what you learned” bullshit 1 divorce and 3712839 bad dates ago! Puff.
The one thing we can count on is that no matter what, we will be ok. We were ok before crappy, not so crappy, and life changing relationships….so we’ll be ok after. We can count on ourselves, our family and our girlfriends to be there when life throws us a curveball and the “plan” doesn’t go quite the way you thought it would. Take chances, but don’t settle. Love, but don’t lose yourself. And at the end of the day, and on my last day of 29, with that thought in my pocket, I know that I’ll be A-OK, no matter what. De-puff.